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OR, 



THE INSPIRED SINOER'S RECIPE BOOK. 



BY A 



NEWDIGATE PRIZEMAN. 



Nuper ventosa isthaec et enormia loquacitas animos juvenum ad magna 
surgentes veluti pestilenti quodam sidere afflavit. — Pktronius. 



FIRST AMERICAN, FROM TWRD ENGLISH EDITION, 
ENLARGED. 




BO ST, Tg- m , 

A. WILLIAMS AND COl 
283 Washington Street. 

NEW YORK: A. BRENTANO, UNION SQUARE. 

1879. 



Fresh, Neat, and Artistic. 

KING'S UIDBOOI OF BOSTON. 

BY THE AUTHOR OF 

"HAE7ARD ATO ITS SURROUNDINGS." 



King's Handbook of Boston, issued from the press Deceraboi 15, 
1878, is the largest, most complete, and best printed book of its class 
ever issued in Boston, Great care was exercised in its compilation ; 
and especial pains were taken with its typography. It contains 
about 275 pages of descriptions of the prominent and interesting 
features of Boston. The illustrations comprise 125 steel, photo, 
and wood engravings, heliotypes, and albertypes. 25 of the illus- 
trations are full pages ix Size, and include views of the New 
Post Office, when completed; the New English High and Latin 
School, when completed; the Museum of Fine Arts, when com- 
pleted; the Public Library, the City Hall, the City Hospital, the 
Hotel Brunswick, the Boston Common, the Public Garden', the 
Boston Water Works, the Club Houses, the Monuments, Statues, 
and Fountains, the Great Fire of 1.S72, the Quarrel of Winthrop 
and Dudley, the Arrest of Andres, the Boston Herald Building, 
the Boston University School of Medicine, the New England .Mu- 
tual Life Insurance Building, the South Boston Iron Works, the 
Simmons Building, Macullar, Williams. & Parker's Establishment, 
the Forest Hills Cemetery, the New "Old South" Church, the 
New Trinity Church, and the Cathedral of the Holy The 

smaller illustrations include many views that have not yet appeared 
in books about Boston. 

1 King's Handbook of Boston was designed for a standard work, 
and the design has been carried out so faithfully in every partic- 
ular that it will undoubtedly find a place in the libraries of thou- 
sands of families, where a book of it > class has long been needed. 

The book is neatly bound in cloth covers, is printed on heavy 
tinted paper, and is published at the tow price of si.oo per copy. 



A. WILLIAMS & CO., PUBLISHERS, BOSTON 



^gljlattfttt *wm|f^ 



OR, 



THE INSPIRED SINGER'S RECIPE BOOK. 



BY A 



NEWDIGATE PRIZEMAN. 



•Ct 



dU 



I,' 



99 

Nuper ventosa isthaec et enormia loquacitas animos juvenum ad magna 
surgentes veluti pestilenti quodam sidere afflavit. — Petronius. 



FIRST AMERICAN, FROM THIRD ENGLISH EDITION, 
ENLARGED. 






>s? 



381 



'JTZeg^ZSV 



BOSTON: 



A. WILLIAMS AND COMPANY? 

283 Washington Street. 
NEW YORK: A. BRENTANO, UNION SQUARE. 

1879. 



♦ 



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TN 7? i 



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••W*,, 



Cambridge : 
Press of John Wilson Sf Son. 



NOTE TO AMERICAN EDITION. 



•+o— 



TMs brochure (which is now generally attributed to 
W. H. Mallock, the author of" The New Republic"), 
is reprinted by its American publishers simply with a 
view of supplying the demand which they have had for 
it; and which demand, notwithstanding their facilities 
as importers of English books, they have been unable to 
satisfy. 

It may be proper to state that it achieved in England 
a certain amount of popularity long before the appear- 
ance of " The New Republic." 

Boston, December, 1878. 



<p 



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INTRODUCTION. 




O have attempted in former times a 
work of this description, would have 
seemed, we cannot deny, to savor 
either of presumption or of idiocy, or more 
probably of both. And rightly. But we live 
in times of progress. The mystery of yester- 
day is the common-place of to-day ; the Bible, 
which was Newton's oracle, is Professor Hux- 
ley's jest-book ; and students at the Univer- 
sity now lose a class for not being familiar 
with opinions which but twenty years ago 
they would have been expelled for dreaming 



o 







v\ 






,0! 



6 



of. Everything is moving onward swiftly 
and satisfactorily ; and if, when we have made 
all faiths fail, we can only contrive to silence 
the British Association, and so make all 
knowledge vanish away, there will lack noth- 
ing but the presence of a perfect charity to 
turn the nineteenth century into a complete 
kingdom of heaven. Amongst changes, then, 
so great and so hopeful — amongst the dis- 
coveries of the rights of women, the infalli- 
bility of the Pope, and the physical basis of 
life, it may well be doubted if the great 
fathers of ancient song would find, if they 
could come back to us, anything out of the 
way or ludicrous in a recipe-book for concoct- 
ing poetry. 

Some, indeed, object that poetry is not 
progressive. But on what grounds this as- 
sertion is based, it is not possible to conjecture. 



Poetry is as much progressive as anything 
else in these days of progress. Free-thought 
itself shows scarcely more strikingly those 
three great stages which mark advance and 
movement. For poetry, like Free-thought, 
was first a work of inspiration, secondly of 
science, and lastly now of trick. At its first 
stage it was open to only here and there a 
genius ; at its next to all intelligent men ; 
and at its third to all the human race. Thus, 
just as there is no boy now, but can throw 
stones at the windows which Bishop Colenso 
has broken, so there is scarcely even a young 
lady but can raise flowers from the seed stolen 
out of Mr. Tennyson's garden. 

And surely, whatever, in this its course of 
change, poetry may have lost in quality, is 
more than made up for by what it has gained 
in quantity. For, in the first place, it is far 



K- 



o 



8 



o 






pleasanter to the tastes of a scientific genera- 
tion, to understand how to make bad poetry 
than to wonder at good; and secondly, as the 
end of poetry is pleasure, that we should make 
it each for ourselves is the very utmost that 
we can desire, since it is a fact in which we 
all agree, that nobody's verses can please a 
man so much as his own. 



*0! 



'<* 







OF THE NATURE OF POETRY. 

OETRY, as practised by the latest 
masters, is the art of expressing 
what is too foolish, too profane, or 
too indecent to be expressed in any other way. 
And thus, just as a consummate cook will 
prepare a most delicate repast out of the most 
poor materials, so will the modern poet concoct 
us a most popular poem from the weakest 
emotions, and the most tiresome platitudes. 
The only difference is, that the cook would 
prefer good materials if he could get them, 
whilst the modern poet will take the bad from 
choice. As far, however, as the nature of 
materials goes, those which the two artists 
work with are the same — viz., animals, vege- 



V* 



\ 



X 



10 



tables, and spirits. It was the practice of 
Shakespeare and other earlier masters to make 
use of all these together, mixing them in vari- 
ous proportions. But the moderns have found 
that it is better and far easier to employ each 
separately. Thus Mr. Swinburne uses very 
little else but animal matter in the composi- 
tion of his dishes, which, it must be confessed, 
are somewhat unwholesome in consequence ; 
whilst the late Mr. Wordsworth, on the con- 
trary, confined himself almost exclusively to 
the confection -of primrose pudding and flint 
soup, flavored with the lesser celandine, and 
only now and then a beggar-boy boiled down 
in it to give it a color. The robins and 
drowned lambs which he was wont to use, 
when an additional piquancy was needed, 
were employed so sparingly that they did not 
destroy in the least the general vegetable tone 






11 

of his productions ; and these form in conse- 
quence an unimpeachable Lenten diet. It is 
difficult to know what to say of Mr. Tennyson, 
as the milk and water of which his books are 
composed chiefly, make it almost impossible 
to discover what was the original nature of 
the materials he has boiled down in it. Mr. 
Shelley, too, is perhaps somewhat embarrass- 
ing to classify ; as, though spirits are what he 
affected most, he made use of a large amount 
of vegetable matter also. We shall be, prob- 
ably, not far wrong in describing his material 
as a kind of methyllated spirits, or pure psy- 
chic alcohol, strongly tinctured with the barks 
of trees, and rendered below proof by a quan- 
tity of sea-water. In this division of the 
poets, however, into animalists, spiritualists, 
and vegetarians, we must not be discouraged 
by any such difficulties as these ; but must 



12 



bear in mind that, in whatever manner we may 
neatly classify anything, the exceptions and 
special cases will always far outnumber those 
to which our rule applies. 

But in fact, at present, mere theory may be 
set entirely aside ; for although in case of 
action, the making and adhering to a theory 
may be the surest guide to inconsistency and 
absurdity, in poetry these results can be ob- 
tained without such aid. 

The following recipes, compiled from a 
careful analysis of the best authors, will be 
found, we trust, efficient guides for the com- 
position of genuine poems. But the t}TO must 
bear always in mind that there is no royal 
road to anything, and that not even the most 
explicit directions will make a poet all at 
once of even the most fatuous, the most sen- 
timental, or the most profane. 



13 



■ 



RECIPES. 

| HE following are arranged somewhat 
in the order in which the student is 
recommended to begin his efforts. 
About the more elaborate ones, which come 
later, he may use his own discretion as to which 
he will try first ; but he must previously have 
had some training in the simpler compositions, 
with which we deal before all others. These 
form, as it were, a kind of palaestra of folly, 
a very short training in which will suffice to 
break down that stiffness and self-respect in 
the soul, which is so incompatible with mod- 






14 



ern poetry. Taking, therefore, the silliest and 
commonest of all kinds of verse, and the one 
whose sentiments come most readily to hand 
in vulgar minds, we begin with directions, 



HOW TO MAKE AN ORDINARY LOVE POEM. 



v 



Take two large and tender human hearts, 
which match one another perfectly. Arrange 
these close together, but preserve them from 
actual contact by placing between them some 
cruel barrier. Wound them both in several 
places, and insert through the openings thus 
made a fine stuffing of wild yearnings, hopeless 
tenderness, and a general admiration for stars. 
Then completely cover up one heart with a 
sufficient quantity of chill churchyard mould, 



15 



which may be garnished, according to taste, 
with dank waving weeds or tender violets : 
and promptly break over it the other heart. 



HOW TO MAKE A PATHETIC MARINE POEM. 

This kind of poem has the advantage of 
being easily produced, yet being at the same 
time pleasing, and not unwholesome. As, too, 
it admits of no variety, the chance of going 
wrong in it is very small. Take one midnight 
storm, and one fisherman's family, which, if 
the poem is to be a real success, should be as 
large and as hungry as possible, and must 
contain at least one innocent infant. Place 
this last in a cradle, with the mother singing 
over it, being careful that the babe be dream- 
ing of angels, or else smiling sweetly. Stir 



16 



the father well up in the storm until he disap- 
pears. Then get ready immediately a quan- 
tity of cruel crawling foam, in which serve 
up the father directly on his reappearance, 
which is sure to take place in an hour or 
two, in the dull red morning. This done, a 
charming saline effervescence will take place 
amongst the remainder of the family. Pile 
up the agony to suit the palate, and the poem 
will be ready for perusal. 



HOW TO MAKE AN EPIC POEM LIKE 
MR. TENNYSON. 

(The following, apart from its intrinsic utility, forms in 
itself a great literary curiosity, being the original directions 
from which the Poet Laureate composed the Arthurian Idyls.) 

To compose an epic, some writers instruct 
us first to catch our hero. As, however, Mr. 
Carlyle is the only person on record who has 



17 



ever performed this feat, it will be best for the 
rest of mankind to be content with the near- 
est approach to a hero available ; namely, a 
prig. These animals are very plentiful, and 
easy to catch, as they delight in being ran 
after. There are, however, many different 
kinds, not all equally fit for the present pur- 
pose, and amongst which it is very necessary 
to select the right one. Thus, for instance, 
there is the scientific and atheistical prig, who 
may be frequently observed eluding notice 
between the covers of the " Westminster Re- 
view;" the Anglican prig, who is often 
caught exposing himself in the " Guardian ; " 
the Ultramontane prig, who abounds in the 
" Dublin Review ; " the scholarly prig, who 
twitters among the leaves of the " Academy ; ' : 
and the Evangelical prig, who converts the 
heathen, and drinks port wine. None of 

2 






"V* 



18 

these, and least of all the last, will serve for 
the central figure, in the present class of 
poem. The only one entirely suitable is the 
blameless variety. Take, then, one blame- 
less prig. Set him upright in the middle of 
a round table, and place beside him a beauti- 
ful wife, who cannot abide prigs. Add to 
these one marred goodly man ; and tie the 
three together in a bundle with a link or two 
of Destiny. Proceed, next, to surround this 
group with a large number of men and wo- 
men of the nineteenth century, in fancy-ball 
costume, flavored with a great many very 
possible vices, and a few impossible virtues. 
Stir these briskly about for two volumes, to 
the great annoyance of the blameless prig, 
who is, however, to be kept carefully below 
swearing-point, for the whole time. If he 
once boils over into any natural action or 



19 



exclamation, he is forthwith worthless, and 
you must get another. Next break the wife's 
reputation into small pieces ; and dust them 
well over the blameless prig. Then take a 
few vials of tribulation and wrath, and empty 
these generally over the whole ingredients of 
your poem : and, taking the sword of the 
heathen, cut into small pieces the greater 
part of your minor characters. Then wound 
slightly the head of the blameless prig ; re- 
move him suddenly from the table, and keep 
in a cool barge for future use. 



HOW TO MAKE A POEM LIKE MR. MATTHEW 
ARNOLD. 

Take one soulful of involuntary unbelief, 
which has been previously well flavored with 
self-satisfied despair. Add to this one beauti- 






■v* 



20 



ful text of Scripture. Mix these well to- 
gether ; and as soon as ebullition commences, 
grate in finely a few regretful allusions to 
the New Testament and the Lake of Tiberias, 
one constellation of stars, half-a-dozen allu- 
sions to the nineteenth century, one to Goethe, 
one to Mont Blanc, or the Lake of Geneva ; 
and one also, if possible, to some personal 
bereavement. Flavor the whole with a mouth- 
ful of "faiths " and " infinites," and a mixed 
mouthful of " passions," " finites," and " }^earn- 
ings." This class of poem is concluded, 
usually, with some question, about which 
we have to observe only that it shall be im- 
possible to answer. 



HOW TO MAKE AN IMITATION OF MR. BROWNING. 

Take rather a coarse view of things in gen- 
eral. In the midst of this place a man and a 



21 



woman, her and her ankles, tastefully arranged 

on a slice of Italy, or the country about Por- 

nic. Cut an opening across the breast of 

each, until the soul becomes visible, but be 

very careful that -none of the body be lost 

during the operation. Pour into each breast 

as much as it will hold of the new strong wine 

of love ; and, for fear they should take cold 

by exposure, cover them quickly up with a 

quantity of obscure classical quotations, a few 

familiar allusions to an unknown period of 

history, and a half-destroyed fresco by an 

early master, varied every now and then with 

- a reference to the fugues or toccatas of a 

quite-forgotten composer. 

If the poem be still intelligible, take a pen 

and remove carefully all the necessary parti- 
cles. 






22 



.HOW TO MAKE A MODERN PRE-RAPHAELITE POEM. 

Take a packet of fine selected early Eng- 
lish, containing no words but such as are 
obsolete and unintelligible. Pour this into 
about double the quantity of entirely new 
English, which must have never been used 
before, and which you must compose your- 
self, fresh, as it is wanted. Mix these to- 
gether thoroughly till they assume a color 
quite different from any tongue that was ever 
spoken, and the material will be ready for 
use. 

Determine the number of stanzas of which 
your poem shall consist, and select a corre- 
sponding number of the most archaic or most 
peculiar words in your vocabulary, allotting 
one of these to each stanza ; and pour in the 
other words round them, until the entire 
poem is filled in. 






23 



This kind of composition is usually cast 
in shapes. These, though not numerous — 
amounting, in all, to something under a dozen 
— it would take too long to describe minutely 

here ; and a short visit to Mr. 's shop, in 

King Street, where they are kept in stock, 
would explain the whole of them. A favor- 
ite one, however, is the following, which is of 
very easy construction. Take three damozels, 
dressed in straight night-gowns. Pull their 
hairpins out, and let their hair tumble all 
about their shoulders. A few stars may be 
sprinkled into this with advantage. Place 
an aureole about the head of each, and give 
each a lily in her hand, about half the size of 
herself. Bend their necks all different ways, 
and set them in a row before a stone wall, 
with an apple-tree between each, and some 
large flowers at their feet. Trees and flowers 



24 



of the right sort are very plentiful in church 
windows. When you have arranged all these 
objects rightly, take a cast of them in the 
softest part of your brain, and pour in your 
word-composition as above described. 

This kind of poem is much improved by 
what is called a burden. This consists of a 
few jingling words, generally of an archaic 
character, about which we have only to be 
careful that they have no reference to the 
subject of the poem they are to ornament. 
They are inserted without variation between 
the stanzas. 

In conclusion, we would remark to begin- 
ners that this sort of composition must be 
attempted only in a perfectly vacant atmos- 
phere ; so that no grains of common-sense 
may injure the work whilst in progress. 



25 



HOW TO MAKE A NARRATIVE POEM LIKE 
MR. ROBERT MORRIS. 

Take about sixty pages-full of the same 
word-mixture as that described in the preced- 
ing ; and dilute it with a double quantity of 
mild modern Anglo-Saxon. Pour this com- 
position into two vessels of equal size, and 
into one of these empty a small mythological 
story. If this does not put your readers to 
sleep soon enough, add to it the rest of the 
language in the remaining vessel. 



HOW TO MAKE A SPASMODIC POEM LIKE 
MR. ROBERT BUCHANAN". 

This is a very troublesome kind of poem 
to make, as it requires more effort and strain- 
ing than any other. You are yourself also 
one of the principal ingredients ; and it is 



26 



•< > , 



well, therefore, to warn you, before you use 
yourself for this purpose, that you will be 
good for nothing else after you have clone so. 
The other ingredients, which, like those of a 
quack medicine, are mostly gathered under 
the moon, or in a planetary hour, must be 
first prepared as follows. 

For a poem of a hundred lines (enough to 
satisfy one person) take ten verses-full of 
star-dew, twenty-five verses-full of the tides 
of night, fifteen of passion-pale proud women, 
well idealized, five of starry ice-crystals, ten 
of dank grass and night-shade, fifteen of 
aching solitude, and twenty of frost-silvered 
mountain peaks, bubbling runnels, and the 
sea. Into these put the moon, with stars ad 
libitum; and sprinkle the whole over with 
broken panes of a Grub-street garret window. 
This done, your next step is to prepare your- 



27 



self. The simplest way is to proceed as 
follows : 

Take yourself, and make eyes at it in the 
glass until you think it looks like Keats, or 
the " Boy Chatterton." Then take an in- 
finite yearning to be a poet, and a profound 
conviction that you never can be one, and 
try to stifle the latter. This you will not 
be able to do. The aim of the endeavor is 
to make the conviction restive. Then put 
the two together into yourself : and the con- 
viction will immediately begin to splutter, 
and disturb you. This you will mistake for 
the struggles of genius, and you will shortly 
after be thrown into the most violent con- 
vulsions. As soon as you feel these beginning, 
jump into the middle of your other ingre- 
dients ; your movements will before long 
whip them up into an opaque froth, which 






28 



as soon as you are tired out and become 
quiet, will settle, and leave your head pro- 
truding from the centre. Sprinkle the whole 
with imitation heart's-blood, and serve. 






HOW TO MAKE A SATANIC POEM LIKE 
THE LATE LORD BYRON. 

( This recipe is inserted for the benefit of those poets who 
desire to attain what is called originality. This is only to be 
got by following some model of a past generation, which has 
ceased to be made use of by the public at large. We do not, 
however, recommend this course, feeling sure that all writers in 
the end will derive far more real satisfaction from producing 
fashionable, than original verses ; which two things it is impossi- 
ble to do at the same time.) 

Take a couple of fine deadly sins ; and 
let them hang before your eyes until they 
become racy. Then take them down, dissect 
them, and stew them for some time in a 
solution of weak remorse ; after which they 
are to be devilled with mock-despair. 



29 



HOW TO MAKE A PATRIOTIC POEM LIKE 
MR. SWINBURNE. 

Take one blaspheming patriot, who has 
been hung or buried for some time, together 
with the .oppressed country belonging to him. 
Soak these in a quantity of rotten sentiment, 
till they are completely sodden ; and in the 
mean while get ready an indefinite number 
of Christian kings and priests. Kick these 
till they are nearly dead ; add copiously 
broken fragments of the Catholic church, 
and mix all together. Place them in a heap 
upon the oppressed country; season plenti- 
fully with very coarse expressions ; and on 
the top carefully arrange your patriot, gar- 
nished with laurel or with parsley ; surround 
with artificial hopes for the future, which are 
never meant to be tasted. This kind of 
poem is cooked in verbiage, flavored with 



g 







Liberty, the taste of which is much height- 
ened by the introduction of a few high gods, 
and the game of Fortune. The amount of 
verbiage which liberty is capable of flavoring, 
is practically infinite. 






31 



CONCLUSION. 




E regret to have to offer this work to 
the public in its present incomplete 
state, the whole of that part treat- 
ing in detail of the most recent section of 
modern English poetry, viz., the blasphemous 
and the obscene, being completely wanting. 
It was found necessary to issue this from an 
eminent publishing firm in Holywell Street, 
Strand, where, by an unforeseen casualty, 
the entire first edition was seized by the 
police, and is at present in the hands of the 
Society for the Suppression of Vice. We 



32 



incline, however, to trust that this loss will 
have but little effect ; as indecency and pro- 
fanity are things in which, even to the dull- 
est, external instruction is a luxury, rather 
than a necessity. Those of our readers, 
who, either from sense, self-respect, or other 
circumstances, are in need of a special train- 
ing in these subjects, will find excellent pro- 
fessors of them in any public-house, during 
the late hours of the evening ; where the 
whole sum and substance of the fieriest 
school of modern poetry is delivered nightly ; 
needing only a little dressing and flavoring 
with artificial English to turn it into very 
excellent verse. 



"Ail Artistic Gem." 



Harvard and its Surroundings 

By MOSES KIXG, 

Of Harvard College, Cambridge, Mass. . 

Copiously illustrated with excellent Heliotypes, Engravings, and 
Etchings. Square 12mo. Crimson cloth, $1.50 ; paper, $1.00. 



Mailed, postage paid, on receipt qf price. 



This little book is almost indispensable to any library. The 
subject-matter is so ingeniously arranged, so accurately collated, 
and so complete in its way, that the book at once becomes a useful 
reference book, guide book, and history of Harvard University and 
its historical vicinity, which includes the many noted places of Old 
Cambridge. There are nearly seventy illustrations, about forty of 
which are heliotype-photographs, all numbered and arranged in 
the order of the text and the route laid out on the key-plan. These 
illustrations are of a high order, and make the book valuable as a 
complete album or souvenir of Harvard University. The revision 
of the text has been made by the officers in charge of the various 
departments, and is reliable in every particular. The book is 
printed on heavy tinted paper, and its typographical work is excel- 
lent. 

President Eliot says: "It is a very accurate, convenient, and 
pretty little^ book." 

llev. A. P. Peabody, D.D., says: "This is a book made with 
great care, executed with good taste, arid containing a large amount 
of valuable information." 

Henry IV. Longfellow says : " This is an interesting and con- 
venient little volume." 

Olirer Wendell Holmes says: "I find your little book a very 
satisfactory guide to the most interesting Cambridge localities, weil 
written, well arranged, and exceedingly well illustrated. I must 
not praise it as if I had carefully studied all its details; but I am 
disposed to be something more than pleased to see so compact, so 
well filled, so handsomely presented a manual for the use of the 
stranger in the University city, — one, too, which the native of the 
town will find to contain much that he has forgotten and not a 
little which he has never known." 

" A perfect gem, very artistically executed, and giving a great 
deal of information in a very compact shape." — S. B. JSoyes, Libra- 
rian Mercantile Library , Brooklyn. 

"It is a gem of a book, neat, compact, and charmingly illus- 
trated, rt is a model compilation in all respects." — W, F. Poole, 
Librarian Public- Library, Chicago. 



PUBLISHED BY A. WILLIAMS & 00., BOSTON. 



ENGLISH PUBLISHERS' DEPOT. 



A. WILLIAMS & CO., 

FOREIGN & AMERICAN BOOKSELLERS, 

AND PERIODICAL DEALERS, 

Have always on hand the best works in all classes of litera- 
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